A Scout's Worst Day
by RavingNarniacAnarane
Summary: The knights all rushed in the room to see the poor scout. Tristan was NOT having a good day.


_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters! I just thought of this idea, and fell in love with it._

_Yes, Tristan in Welsh means the noisy one-In case you're wondering._

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**A Scout's Bad Day**

"We're out of apples Tristan, I'm sorry." Vanora had to explain to the silent scout, not particularly liking the situation. She shifted uneasily back and forth, as the man in front of her stared. Finally, the silent scout just nodded and sat down-apple less- next to the other knights.  
The day was stormy, and the thunder and lightning was getting worse by the second, which meant something else to Tristan.  
No leaving the fort.  
Silently fuming at his serious bad luck, he slumped in his seat. Watching the other knights continue with their usual routine, he glared at the empty basket.  
Bors was yelling off at Galahad teasingly, while Gawain and Dagonet sat off in the corner talking. Only Lancelot seemed to be sitting there bored. Eventually, Lancelot spoke, drawing all the other knights' attention with his words.

"Bad day, Tristan?" Lancelot asked noticing that the scout was not cutting an apple up with his knife as usual. Assessing the area quickly, he had come to the conclusion that Tristan was stuck there in the tavern with no apple.  
Tristan's eyes went dark with an un-amused expression. He looked ready to commit a seriously bad injury to the next comment someone mentioned about it.  
All the other knights started looking at each other worried, unsure on how the knight was going to take the current problem.

Standing up, the knight left the tavern and headed back to his room. Deciding on barricading himself in his room in till a new supply of apples came in and the weather passed, was safer then getting in trouble with Arthur for hurting the other men.

Little did the scout know this was only the beginning of his terrible streak of luck that day.

As Tristan entered his room, he had to really pull himself together not to groan, when he saw his bow.  
He couldn't use it to go scouting; he couldn't _shoot_ anything, which made him more irritated.  
Sitting darkly on his bed, he tilted his head in thought on what he could do.

The scout picked up the bow to see if the string was alright, when it snapped. The beautiful string that Tristan had always admired, slapped him in the face, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek.  
Stunned, he placed the bow down in shock.  
Turning sharply, he left the room before anything else broke, and slammed the door behind him. He gave a mighty kick at the wood, and turned at the sound of a gasp.  
Just to add to the insult, all the other knights saw his angry burst, and stared at him with their mouths open in the hall.  
Dagonet looked pitifully at his friend, who seemed to be steadily getting more and more uncomfortable.  
Galahad, who had gasped at the scout's sudden show of emotion, looked at Lancelot and Gawain.  
There was a creak, and Tristan turned to see the door come off its hinges and fall right on him.  
There was stifled laughter, as the knights saw the scout lying on the floor with a door on top of him.  
Gawain, grinning wildly, went to help him. Yanking the wooden plank from of his fellow brother-in-arms, he held his hand out to the scout. Raising an eyebrow, he couldn't help but ask what the red mark was all about.

"Get slapped by a tree branch, Tristan?" As the man in question got to his feet, he glared murderously at Gawain.

"My bow broke, if you're so eager to know," He growled and shoved his way past Bors and Galahad, leaving his door still lying in the middle of the hall. Bors eyes widened at the sight of Tristan retreating.

"This is _not_ going to end well," He said to the others, who all nodded their heads in unison.

Tristan was going to head to the wall, to avoid any more havoc. But, he was nearly run over by three small girls, which he immediately realized were Bors kids.

"Oh! Sir Tristan, were sorry, we didn't see you!" The middle one claimed, her eyes dancing, looking at her sisters. Her blonde hair was whipping in the storm, and she turned to her red haired sister, who quickly followed her up.

"Do you mind accompanying us back to the tavern?"  
The scout was sure that if he agreed to this, he would be committing suicide. But all three girls looked at him with wide eyes, nearly begging. He heaved a heavy sigh, and eyed the wall miserably.

"Alright," He gave in, knowing if he didn't, Arthur was sure to find out.  
Squeals and giggles erupted and they grabbed him by his arm and pulled him along. Along the way, the girls, Tristan guessed were 3, 7, and 9, talked.

"Oh, you _must _let us repay the favor!" The one who had not spoken yet, asked.  
About to refuse, Tristan found himself forced into a chair in the corner of the tavern. 3, 7 and 9 stood over him, making sure he couldn't escape. The scouts' eyes widen in horror, as he registered what they were saying.  
"Flowers and ribbons should help a lot!" The blonde told the others, as she started to undo Tristan's braids. Taking none of the insult, the knight tried to stand up, but was pushed back down.

Vanora was at a stopping point, when she saw three of her girls crowded in one of the corners. Hurrying over she was about to ask what they were up to, when she saw it.  
Tristan was sitting, looking ready to stab one of her daughters. If it weren't for the looks in his eyes, Vanora wasn't sure she would have been able to recognize him. A bright sunflower was tangled in his hair, ribbons wrapped around the braids, and worst of all, his usual messy hair was _brushed._ Vanora looked at Tristan, and he looked at her; both had equal shocked faces.

"You three get off that knight _right now_!" The young mother cried, breaking the awkward moment.

Taking the moment, the scout stood up, and nearly ran out of the clearing.

"But we didn't get to finish his beard," The red head whined, as she watched him leave. One look from her mother silenced her.

Tristan was removing the flower and trying to regain a bit of his messy hair, when Lancelot joined him.

"Like some help there?" Lancelot asked, sniggering. "Or have you finally decided to brush that bird's nest?"  
Having none of it, Tristan aimed to leave, but Lancelot reached over and pulled a ribbon out. Unable to hold it in, the scout made a noise like a wounded animal. Lancelot couldn't help but grin as he yanked another ribbon out.

"Maybe you should go to the wall, and get away before something else happens," He suggested as the last braid was color free.

"I was aiming to do that in the first place," His friend replied, as he stood up.

"I'll come with you, make sure…that doesn't happen again," He nodded to the pile of accessories that made Tristan cringe. The two knights left the stables where Tristan had taken refuge. Walking in silence, they tried to shelter themselves from the winds that were strong enough to make them lean over.  
Lancelot was just about to ask Tristan something, when there was a large flash and the men's spines tingled.

"Tristan, look out!" Lancelot shouted as a burning tree came crashing down. The scout barely managed to get out of the way, unfortunately, his arm wasn't.  
The knight stood up, and started swatting at his, now on fire, sleeve. Shaking and couple of hits from Lancelot, the shirt was extinguished before any serious injury occurred.

"Man! Tristan, with your luck, you'll be dead by the end of the day!" Lancelot gaped, as he looked at the smoldering tree in the middle of the road; right were Tristan was standing.

"Whatever I did, I'll make sure next time I don't do it," The silent knight fumed.

Deciding not to force themselves through the crowded streets, they started to head back to the tavern.

Joined by Galahad half way back, Lancelot told him about the fire.

"You must be having a seriously tough day," Galahad mentioned, as he noticed the scouts' hair was a little neater than it had ever been.

Just as Galahad said that, the poor knight tripped, and went down. Lancelot and Galahad looked shocked as their brother-in-arms was found looking quite shocked on the ground.  
A couple of Romans standing by were sniggering at the sight of the fallen Sarmatian knight.

_(Author: Happy New Years! It just reached midnight! 2011, I wrote this story in two different years hahaha)_

"Hey, Sarmatian! Did you know that your name means 'the noisy one'?" They started to tease the scout as he stood up. Lancelot and Galahad had their weapons out and aimed at the Romans in milliseconds.  
Tristan just gave them all a look of complete annoyance and walked out of the circle before something else happened.

The scout had about enough of the bad events. He had also missed the afternoon meal, due to some meddle-some girls on top of that, causing him a headache.  
As he walked into the tavern something hard collided with his jaw hard. The scout sank to the ground out cold.

Dagonet stood looking in shock at Bors, who stood over a now unconscious brother-in-arms, with his fist raised. Bors looked at the others, and shrugged.

"I put him out of his misery, decidedly fast." He explained, as he leaned over and picked up the knight.

"Where are you taking him?" Gawain asked, watching Bors head out of the tavern with Tristan over his shoulder. If it wasn't a serious matter, the knights would have been in a laughing fit. But knowing the scout, they would probably be facing a very scary knight in the middle of the night.

"To Arthur, he has to leave the fort, before he ends up getting killed." Bors gave another look to the scout, and added concerned, "If he wakes up in time."

Tristan found himself lying in a bed he didn't remember ending up in. In fact, the last thing he remembered was being punched by a certain brother he had. He sat up fast at that thought, only giving himself a head rush.

"Take it slow Tristan, don't want to be in more trouble than I'm already in," He heard Bors say next to him. Slowly, the scout turned to the sound of his voice, and gave a smoldering look.

"Trust me, you're in trouble the moment I regain my footing!" He said in his deadly serious quiet voice.

"Enough you two!" Arthur snapped, as he came into Tristan's line of vision.

"Tristan, you do know you could have gone scouting right? I sent someone to tell you," The scout stared at Arthur, and blinked. Then, he lost it. The scout threw a huge fit, yelling at the top of his voice, he marched outside to get his horse.

The other knights watched in silence, as their fellow knight galloped out of the fort as fast as he could.

"I _never_ want to see Tristan have a bad day _ever_ again," Lancelot spoke up.

Tristan finished his nightmare that had made them all wake up to the sound of his yell.

Galahad, Bors, Lancelot, Gawain, Dagonet, and Arthur stood in the scouts' room, staring at the bedraggled knight. Slowly, a couple of laughs came out, and Arthur finally spoke.  
"Well, Tristan, I can assure you that will probably never happen to you."

"And I'll make sure my girls leave you alone, and no fists come your way" Bors added with a mighty laugh, still remembering when they had all rushed in at the sound of the scouts cry. Weapons were out of sheaths, and they only found Tristan sitting up in bed panting. When they asked him what happened, they had gotten a crazy scouts nightmare.

"Plus, I'll look out for burning trees, no worries there," Lancelot added teasing the scout further, since he so rarely got to do so.

"No tripping either, but does your name really mean 'the noisy one'?" Galahad asked, unable to hold in the question. The now angry scout leapt out of bed and headed out the door with a slam.  
Only to be followed by Gawain calling out,  
"Watch out Tristan! You don't want the door to fall on you!"

Laughing, the knights walked out into the stormy weather to join him at the tavern. Arthur headed to go talk to Jols, and the knights came to see an interesting sight.

"Were out of apples Tristan, I'm sorry," Vanora was saying. The knights looked at each other, looking panicked.

"Dagonet, you get the apples from the forest. Bors lock up your girls and keep your hands busy. Gawain, go make sure the door is secure. Galahad, make sure he knows he can still scout and no Romans get in the way. I'll look out for burning trees." Lancelot snapped, and the knights raced off, eager to avoid Tristan's now living nightmare.

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_Ahh, twisted ending! I don't know if it's funny or not, I thought it was in my head. _

_Review._


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